


a little sweetness, love, & sympathy

by bespokenboy



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Badly written porn, Fluff, Food Kink, M/M, Smut, not proofread, specifically: whipped cream play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 16:32:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3985045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bespokenboy/pseuds/bespokenboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joonmyun's birthday surprise doesn't go exactly as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a little sweetness, love, & sympathy

Joonmyun wakes up with a sense of anticipation, like he's tensed for battle. Sleep is hardly sleep nowadays when he feels always a wick away from burning out. His light flickers now and then, but he's always had those to shield him from the subversive wind—though his shield seems to wane by the season. 

The nightmare-fueled adrenaline lingers in Joonmyun's bloodstream, straining his heart and chest. He reminds himself that it was only a dream, nothing more, but the worst part about this recurring nightmare in particular is that it's the hardest one to distinguish from reality. He climbs out of bed, wrapping his blanket around his shoulders. The digits on his phone glare angrily at him to go back to bed, but he needs to check, just for his own peace of mind. 

Five in the morning is too early to wake everybody up, but Joonmyun needs to reconfirm that only in his nightmare did the others leave him in the middle of the night. 

"Sehun?" he mumbles groggily, holding the blanket closer around his narrow frame. 

There are no toes protruding from the edge of his blanket, or so it seems, so Joonmyun shuffles closer. 

"Sehun?"

Joonmyun folds the corner of Sehun's blanket back, and suddenly feels as if his stomach vanished. There are only pillows where a body once was, a poorly disguised stand-in for Sehun. For the first time, Joonmyun wishes that he hadn’t kicked Baekhyun out of their dorm room. A third roommate would be helpful in the case of a runaway roommate, especially since Joonmyun is a notoriously heavy sleeper.

He drags his feet into the living room, half-expecting to find Sehun on the couch. Joonmyun doesn’t have any obnoxious sleeping habits that he knows of, but maybe Sehun was just trying to be polite by withholding any complaint. Or maybe not, because Sehun is nowhere to be seen.

Joonmyun swallows bravely his instinct to overreact and shifts his search instead to the other dorm rooms.

Sehun is not in any of the other bedrooms, and worse, neither are any of the other boys. Confusion precipitates to panic, because this situation is just too horrifyingly familiar. Joonmyun drifts, as though suspended in a nightmare, from bedroom to bedroom finding only cold sheets and empty beds.

Though he strains to see, it feels like his eyes are sewn shut: there is only darkness and shadows lurking in his vision on all sides. His bare feet pad numbly along the hallways, as the aching dread in his stomach spills over into every corner of his body. If Joonmyun screams in an empty house, will he have even made a noise?

Knees unsteady, Joonmyun collapses onto the living room sofa while clutching onto his last hope with raised white knuckles. That hope dissipates from his rigid grip with every dial that takes him on a detour straight to voicemail. _My Sehun, My Baekhyun, My Kyungsoo, My Yixing, My Jongdae, My Minseok, My Chanyeol_ , and even _My Jongin_ —Joonmyun starts to wonder if they were ever really his to begin with.

“ _Where are you? Please come home :)_ ” 

Joonmyun sends this message eight times to eight different people, praying that he gets at least one response in return. He almost types it out three more times, but his hopes for the three who got away have already been abridged.

Seconds tick by—then the clock twitches and minutes have passed, but his desperate texts receive no reply. The worst part is that Joonmyun knows for a fact that not a lucid moment goes by without any of them checking their phones on impulse. They may have gotten more sly about it by leaving Joonmyun’s texts unopened and unread, but Joonmyun always knows when he’s being ignored. His intuition never fails him.

If this is some kind of rebellion against Joonmyun’s authority, they’ve won. Whether they realize it or not, there’s a fragile balance of power within the group, more tenuous than Joonmyun can ever let any of them know. But in this waking nightmare, he feels entirely powerless. He’s too shaken to fall back asleep, too weak to propel himself forward. 

He curls up on the sofa, knees to chest, in a state of limbo as every old insecurity rises from his subconsciousness. If everything they’ve said about his uselessness as a leader wasn’t true, why couldn’t he have kept his band, his _family_ together? Why would the rest of them have abandoned him on his birthday?

 

Rarely do Chanyeol’s ideas go according to plan. Jongin had a bad feeling about it from the start, but once he receives a text message from their leader who is _supposed_ to be asleep, he knows that he should return to the dorms before any feelings are hurt.

“Joonmyun-hyung is awake,” Jongin announces, showing Chanyeol the message.

“We’re not done yet,” he hisses back. “Baekhyun is still at the grocery store buying more cans of whipped cream, and Kyungsoo still needs to finish making the cake.”

“Do we need more whipped cream? I think what we’ve got is enough.”

“The whole point of the surprise is the whipped cream.”

“I think he’s worried, though. Is it okay if I go a little early?”

Chanyeol grimaces, and then concedes, “Fine, just don’t let him know what we’re doing. Tell him that we’re at the movies or something.”

“At six in the morning?”

“Tell him whatever, that we’re taking Baekhyun out for a walk or something. Just make sure you blindfold him.”

Jongin almost balks. “Is a blindfold necessary?”

“It’ll make it so much better,” Chanyeol promises. He hands Jongin a plastic bag containing bottles of whipped cream that clank noisily against each other. “I would usually recommend a few bottles more, but five or six should be enough. And they’re fat-free in case you’re worried.”

“Are...are you sure this is a good idea?”

“It’s always worked for me. Joonmyun-hyung will love it, I promise.”

 

“Hyung? I’m home,” Jongin announces uncertainly. His stomach sinks to the floor at the sight of Joonmyun nestled under a blanket, perched on the sofa.

Joonmyun’s eyes are blank, haunted, staring at nothing in particular. He blinks a few times before fixing his gaze on Jongin. A tiny frown pouts his lips and tugs at Jongin’s heart.

“Where were you?” Joonmyun croaks softly. “Where is everyone?”

“They’re, um, at the movies.”

“At six in the morning?”

“Um, actually, they’re taking Baekhyun out for a walk.”

“Jongin.”

He’s hopeless when it comes to lying, and even more so when it’s Joonmyun. Especially when Joonmyun is wearing an expression that looks both heartbroken and disappointed at the same time.

“They’re just outside of the building,” Jongin finally admits. “Getting your birthday cake and presents ready.”

This kind of news would normally make Joonmyun excited like a little kid, but he was so drowned in worry that it hardly lifts his spirits. “Thank god,” he whispers, “I thought…”

“You thought what?”

He shakes his head to dislodge his irrational thoughts. Of course he had nothing to worry about. “When I woke up to an empty dorm, I almost thought that everybody had left me.”

“Shit,” Jongin mutters. “Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry, I wanted the dorm to be empty so it could just be the two of us, and I never considered that you would assume–”

“No, no, it’s fine, I was just overreacting as always. Worrying is my job, isn’t it?”

Joonmyun tries to smile, but Jongin can tell that he’s still shaken by his fear of abandonment.

“It’s definitely not your job to worry on your birthday.”

“You remembered?” 

“How could I forget?”

Joonmyun relaxes, and they’re grinning at each other openly now like there’s nothing else to hide. So things didn’t go exactly as planned. According to Chanyeol, Joonmyun wouldn’t wake up until closer to noon, and by then, Jongin would already be waiting in bed for him. Joonmyun wasn’t supposed to worry himself sick over their whereabouts.

“I, um, actually had a surprise for you, hyung,” Jongin mutters. His cheeks color in embarrassment already as he thinks about the gift. But it’s too late now to turn back.

“You didn’t have to buy me anything, Jongin-ah!”

“I didn’t exactly buy you anything, hyung.”

“Oh? Then what is it?”

Joonmyun’s eyebrows arch in confusion, especially when he notices how Jongin’s eyes are bent on the ground. 

“I think everyone has noticed it by now, and maybe you have, too, but...I really like you, hyung,” Jongin confesses in a breathless rush.

The temperature in the room takes a startling climb in temperature, and Jongin grabs onto Joonmyun’s hand out of nervousness. Joonmyun feels his heart shudder as he looks down at Jongin’s nervous grip on his hand, and he says, “I like you, too, Jongin.”

“N-not that kind of like, hyung, not the kind you’re probably thinking about. I like you even more than that. I like you more than I like anyone else in the world, probably.”

“Jongin…” Joonmyun murmurs. “Come here. You’re such a sweet boy.”

He’s up on his tip-toes to kiss Jongin’s cheek when Jongin turns at the last second to capture a kiss on the lips instead. 

“I like you in that kind of way, hyung.”

“Oh.” Joonmyun’s lips mirror the shape of his eyes, round with surprise.

“And if it’s okay with you, I want to make you feel good for your birthday.”

“Okay, Jongin-ah, I trust you.” Joonmyun smiles at him and bites his lip, suddenly shy. 

It gives Jongin the confidence to hook an arm behind Joonmyun’s knees to scoop him up and carry him over to his bedroom. Joonmyun giggles breathlessly when he bounces onto the mattress, and Jongin pins him down to kiss him again. While Joonmyun’s hands are busy smoothing over Jongin’s pectorals, Jongin procures a scarf from his pocket to blindfold him.

“Sorry, hyung, but I have to do this apparently,” Jongin apologizes. 

He kisses Joonmyun more while he slips his cold fingers under Joonmyun’s shirt, making the leader squirm and twitch. The corner of Jongin’s mouth quirks up when he finds a sensitive point on Joonmyun’s waist that actually makes him gasp. 

Joonmyun’s shirt is tossed onto the floor, followed by his pajama pants. Jongin mouths at Joonmyun’s crotch through the fabric of his briefs, leaving a dark wet patch on the fabric. 

“Are you cold, hyung?” he asks affectionately. Joonmyun shakes his head, and Jongin notices that a pretty pink flush is already blossoming across his chest and cheeks. “This might feel a little cold,” Jongin warns him.

Joonmyun frowns, puzzled, when he hears the rustle of a plastic bag and a rattling noise as Jongin shakes an aerosol can. He yelps when he feels a sudden, cold spray of foamy liquid against his chest.

“Fuck,” Joonmyun bites out. “What is that?”

“Whipped cream,” Jongin informs him. “Sorry if that was too cold, but this might make it better.”

That’s the most warning that Joonmyun gets before Jongin’s tongue is on his chest, lapping up the whipped cream and tracing the contours of his flesh. And then his lips are on Joonmyun’s lips again, allowing him a taste of the sweetness. 

“Did that feel good, hyung? Taste good?”

“Both,” Joonmyun breathes.

Jongin shakes the can of whipped cream again, and Joonmyun’s stomach caves in anticipation. His entire core tightens when the spray hits his skin, it’s still shocking even when he’s expecting it this time. It must be the blindfold, because Joonmyun’s senses are heightened tenfold, especially when Jongin’s tongue swirls over his nipples and sucks off every drop of whipped cream. Jongin’s hot, heavy tongue trails from his chest down to his belly, dipping into every crevice and valley. 

“I’ve got a few more cans in my bag, but I’m kind of sick of the taste now,” Jongin admits sheepishly. 

“That’s okay, Jongin-ah, just fuck me, please.”

A tide of light suddenly comes into Joonmyun’s vision when his blindfold is snatched away, and he watches as Jongin scrupulously licks away the remaining smears of whipped cream from his body. Jongin continues to press kisses down Joonmyun’s navel, and Joonmyun’s thighs shake in anticipation while his hips arch up automatically. He shimmies out of his briefs, which Jongin balls up and tosses over his shoulder.

“Jongin, baby,” Joonmyun whimpers, electrified by the warmth and wetness of Jongin’s mouth surrounding his cock. “Keep going, just like that.”

His words goad Jongin into bobbing his head with more fervor until a growl knots in Joonmyun’s throat and he’s spilling into Jongin’s mouth. 

“Better than whipped cream,” Jongin grins, wiping the back of his mouth with his hand.

Joonmyun’s entire body is still pulsating from his orgasm, and he shivers, clenching around Jongin when he nudges into Joonmyun’s entrance. Joonmyun rolls his hips up encouragingly, and in no time, Jongin is hammering into him with tight-bodied grunts that Joonmyun swallows with kisses. 

He pulls out just before he comes and Joonmyun wrangles his way onto his knees so that he’s hovering over Jongin instead. He bends down to suck Jongin off, finishing him and then some just to feel him writhe from underneath. 

“I’m impressed, Jongin-ah,” he coos. “I didn’t expect that you would ever think to use whipped cream.”

“It was Chanyeol’s idea,” Jongin mumbles, mortified now that the reality of what they had just done starts to sink in. 

When they’ve cleaned up, Jongin sends a text message declaring that it’s safe for the other members to return to the dorms. If Joonmyun notices the way that the others regard him with suspicion, he doesn’t let it show. Jongin, on the other hand, can barely meet their eyes, choosing to ignore their knowing smirks.

He barely catches a glimpse of the birthday cake before he’s sprinting to the bathroom to retch. The cake is a formless, white globular mass of whipped cream.

 

 **A/N** : ew why did i wrtie thtis


End file.
